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(Weekends Don’t Do It Jusitce) To Follow and To Lead Chapter 1: Lets start over.(Part 2)

Last Time on To Follow and To Lead:

Ref: TIME! WEAPONS DOWN!

The loud blaring of air horns from all four corners of the field filled the air and everyone seemed to come to their senses, halting the rush just as the Blue team got on the field. Upset over the end of the game just when it was getting good, a member of the brown’s stepped forward and removed his teammate’s helmet and took a deep breath. Jim Fairway, the leader of the brown team was of average build, in height and weight, and almost everything else as well, only excelling in one thing.

Jim: “YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! YOU CLOWNS SHOW UP NOW?!? JUST AS THE MATCH IS ENDING?!?!?” He shouted out loudly as he tossed his gun and helmet to the ground and stormed toward the blue team with a violent demeanor. His voice was the loudest thing there, making the horns seem weaker for it.

Part 2

As he did this, one of his teammates cut him off, removing her helmet and looking to him with a rather easy going expression despite his fight-ready body language. His second-in-command, Inginia, stepped in to stop his advance before he did anything rash. She had a similar build as an average female, but noticeably taller than everyone else on her team.

Inginia: “Lets not get all bent out of shape! Remember, this is still a game. We all wanted a piece of them, but it looks like something more interesting has happened instead.” She said as she looked to blue, the group that seemed to be at the top of everyone’s hit list.

Jim was never as quick to catch on to things as most, looking to her as if she spoke in an alien language. The green team, having emerged from the popular campsite headed over to them as they spoke, their leader removing his helmet next. Bailey looked like the cliche team leader, his uniform almost tailored to show off his gym sculpted body, and masculine facial features.

Bailey: “Agreed. This match and the next 5 are meant to re-evaluate the ranks. Taking away our current ranks and giving us six rounds to change, for better or worse. And since the top ranked team blue missed it….” He explained, leaving Jim to figure out the rest as he looked to the group in question.

Jim grunted a little, still not seeming all that happy over the results. Inginia looked to him and couldn’t figure out why he was still sour, figuring he’d be happy about the fact that they now had a lead on the supposed ‘best team.’

Jim: “Nah, I want to face them and win. Forget all that technical crap!” He said with the pride of lion, and his fist against his chest. As the teams all pooled into the center of the field to get the results for this round, the Blue team silently went back and forth, something that Jim and Inginia noticed a lot. It seemed as if the five were talking, but didn’t make a sound, hands and arms flailing about, but not a peep other than the sound of their gear ruffling.

Jim: “….. How do we keep losing to those weirdos?” He huffed, his annoyance over the blue team earning a chuckle from Inginia who stood beside him with the rest of their group who kept their helmets on.

Wearing the classic referee colors, the three of them stood before the teams to give them their results.

Green: 1st
Purple: 2nd
Brown: 3rd
Pink: 4th
Yellow: 5th
Orange: 6th
Grey: 7th
Blue: 8th

“Further details will be sent out later, but these are the current rankings. As well, a new rule was has been added to this tournament. Rank up matches are now allowed, where you can issue a challenge to the team ranked above you for their spot outside of the main matches every other Thursday as long as the challenged team agrees and one of the three refs sanctions the match! That is all for today. Good fight teams!” The ref saluted the lot by bring all limbs in to a stomp, while the right arm extended to the right in a fist, everyone doing that same pose in return.

The once overcast clouds had now parted to reveal an auburn sky; the perfect setting for the teams departing in their rides. Each had a truck of some sort and each team rode with all of it’s members, likely that they knew one another outside of the field. As they were all leaving, the Blue team stayed behind, looking over the field and which covers were used the most. The five of them moved around the field slowly, head’s shaking in disappointment as they inspected the area, along with other body gestures that suggested they were upset with how they managed to get here so late. The driver of their vehicle looked to them the whole time, an older woman dressed in business attire, as if she had somewhere important to be. In fact, their driver, Alice Huins, who worked in commercial design, was in an important meeting that afternoon. That’s when she got a text from one of them asking her when she would pick them up. This was due to a promise she made prior, leading to her cutting the meeting short and had her rushing home to switch her Red 2015 Lexus IS, for her rundown pickup truck whose brand she could not recall. Even though she potentially ruined herself by rushing through something so important to her career, she felt bad about the whole thing, realizing that she forgot her promise to get them to the field for this. The team could have blamed her for their lateness, but that wouldn’t be fair considering what she did to get them here and they all seemed to be on the same page about that without being verbal. Somehow. By the time they finished looking over the field, they returned to the truck to find their driver asleep, to no ones surprise, and carefully moved her to the passenger’s seat with one of them getting behind the wheel to take them home. While she was asleep, she could faintly hear the noise from coming from the back; the stomping and clanking in rhythm. She seemed to rest abit easier hearing this, the sound of a team even more pumped about the coming matches rather than upset.

Overlooking his neighborhood that night, Bailey came to the window of his apartment on the 12th floor, looking out over the lights as everyone prepared to turn in for the night. Having just gotten himself purged of the paint that sneaked in passed his gear, he looked to his phone and tapped it a few times, making a late night call.

Bailey: “Hey. Yeah, it was a good match, considering- Oh, you heard too? I think they did it on purpose…. Coming in late and being forced to start from scratch…. Why wouldn’t they? Simple, a perfect way for them to reinforce their domination over us. When’s the last time you saw team blue anywhere but at the top? Yes. And by the time we finish, they can challenge each team and climb up one by one just to show us how much more skilled they are. I’ve been trying to figure out what makes them so much better than us, and me and everyone else turned to them when they showed up… Like we all knew to band together because something bigger than us arrived.” As Bailey spoke, he paced back and forth in his apartment, rubbing his face in frustration and kicking his helmet to the side. “I just want to win… I want to lead my team to victory. Being at the top is shallow if we couldn’t survive on the field with Blue. I don’t think any of the other teams even cared for the rankings either, not like anyone even got excited over it.”

On the other end of the phone, the man that Bailey spoke to smiled and looked to the full moon from his car at the top of a parking lot. “What does it mean? to lead? You mentioned that this team doesn’t speak when they are around. How do they follow or lead without communication verbally? Do they all just know what to do already? Do they use telepathy?” he asked him with a hint of sarcasm.

Bailey thought long and hard about the question, ignoring obvious answers and looking for more. He had always felt that picking the right lot and directing them well was what it meant, but now he was unsure. Was having a team that knew how to take orders really the best kind of team? And was he leading them well enough?

“I can tell that your busting your brain trying to figure this out, I can hear that head of yours whistling like a kettle. Stop trying to reach an answer. I simply want you to think about it, Bailey. If your goal is to lead your team to victory, you need to know what it truly means to lead.” He told him before a jingling sound signaled the call being dropped.

“What does it mean to lead…” Bailey said to himself as he peered over to his helmet sitting against the wall he kicked it to. The moonlight gleamed off of the lime green of it, not a single scratch to be found from head shots; all but a thin blue streak that he could never get off no matter how hard he tried. A visage that once upset him now sparked the fires of competition as he grabbed it and a few tools, humming and beat-boxing a tune eerily similar to the stomping of the blue team during their drive.

(Weekends Don’t Do It Jusitce) To Follow and To Lead Chapter 1: Lets start over.(Part 1)

Welcome to the new face of Weekends Don’t Do it Justice. You’ll notice today that there will be more than one Weekend post. And that’s because we have 2 dynamic new writers coming in (Lucremo might come back too). First up is Kudo who’s new series is called To Follow and To Lead. Our second new author will Debut her piece next week, but we’ll be introducing her later today as well. So look to hear from “The Voice of Reason” very soon. For now though; Sit back, Relax, and enjoy Part 1 of Chapter 1 of Kudo’s To Follow And To Lead: Let’s Start Over.

~RW

To Follow and To Lead Chapter 1: Lets start over.(part1)

The inhuman air of anticipation seemed to make the sound and feel of the pick-up truck against the rocky road seem like nothing, as a group of five people sat around in the back, a large red rain cover tented over the top of it. The group was dressed in heavy looking blue camouflage gear, and armed with what heavy weapons in toll. The mask they wore hid their faces and the attire they wore was heavy and hid both gender and skin color. As they all sat shoulder to shoulder, rocking back and forth almost in rhythm.

The Drive seemed to go on for another hour or so with nothing but stillness; no words, no sounds, not a single action to suggest they were even human at this point. It was then that the of them began to tap their foot, getting looks from the others in a slow manner, as if to discourage what they were doing just then. But soon another joined in, and then another, getting a good sound going. The last two began to clank their guns together, bouncing around on the bumpy road but never losing beat.

Just as the pick-up truck came to a halt, suddenly the sound of whizzing shots hit or missed the truck they were in. A loud thudding came from the window to the driver’s seat, the silhouette of a hand patting to it. One of the five kneeled at the center and rested his firearm to his chest and with his gloved hands began to put out an array of hand signals, point to each with a particular set of hand signs. Each nodded after receiving their orders before they rushed from the back of the van, the tent flapping open as they rushed into the overcast sky and paint splattered grass field.

What looked to be an old soccer ball field was now the site for a game of paint ball that seemed to be a regular thing, with the vast amount of dried paint all around. There were several abandoned trucks, jeeps, and even a few old freight liners toppled over to create more cover and hiding space. The stands on the left and right of the field were pretty high up and acted as both a stand for spectator friendly matches and a shooting range for target practice… For unwanted Spectators.

The battlefield was live; with several teams rushing around with the bravado of true soldiers in the midst of war. With each team wearing it’s own custom uniforms, and helmets or masks that protected their faces as well as hiding them. This made it hard for anyone to tell who the leader was unless there was a major visual flaw, or if one was capable of picking up on soldier’s habits on the field. A team of six in brown rushes toward a flipped semi-trailer in the classic ‘Flying-V’ formation, where a team in green were held up, firing from the safety of it’s doors which made for great cover. As team brown made with their way towards green’s nest, A wheel-jacked jeep’s doors opened to reveal three members in gray, preparing fire on the seemingly unsuspecting brown from the left side. Almost on cue, the three of the Brown’s group on the left of the formation all turned their torso’s a full 90 degrees and opened fire on the jeep,without stopping or slowing down at all. While it was an effective tactic, it ended up making them easier targets, simply aiming for the center of the jeep would grant more hits since they were all stuck in that general area.
This was when the truck pulled in at the ‘clear zone’ at the far end of the field that seemed relatively clean with just dead grass and no paint other than some red. The five charged into the field around them, dozens of others dressed in some sort of camouflage, pinks, purples, yellows, oranges all looked to the blue team with great concern. All weapons turned on the five, groups that were having their own private spats on the field quickly stopped to take aim at the New arrivals. But team Blue show now falter, their bravado like a pack of hunger wolves rushing toward their prey. Not a sound was in the air, but the heavy marching of the blue, who were seconds away from leaving the clear zone and entering the fray. Several teams left their places and rushed toward them, masks worn by all teams hid expressions that would range from fear to thrills, but all would be revealed in the next few-

Ref: TIME! WEAPONS DOWN!

The loud blaring of air horns from all four corners of the field filled the air and everyone seemed to come to their senses, halting the rush just as the Blue team got on the field. Upset over the end of the game just when it was getting good, a member of the brown’s stepped forward and removed his team made helmet and took a deep breath. Jim Fairway, the leader of the brown team was of average build, in height and weight, and almost everything else as well, only excelling in one thing.

Jim: “YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! YOU CLOWNS SHOW UP NOW?!? JUST AS THE MATCH IS ENDING?!?!?” He shouted out loudly as he tossed his gun and helmet to the ground and stormed toward the blue team with a violent demeanor. His voice was the loudest thing there, making the horns seem weaker for it.